First things first: a D.I. is short for “drill instructor”. The D.I. failed at the box office when originally released to theaters in 1957, but time and its availability on home media – especially for a film largely forgotten by most – has rendered a more sympathetic judgment. Produced, directed, and starring Jack Webb of Dragnet fame (as Sergeant Joe Friday), The D.I. was made by Webb’s production company, Mark VII Limited, and distributed by Warner Bros. Co-written by James Lee Barrett (1970′s ...tick... tick... tick..., 1977′s Smokey and the Bandit), adapting his teleplay The Murder of a Sand Flea to screen, the film is based on what Barrett, a former Marine, saw at United States Marine Corps (USMC) boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina. Marine DIs in the 1950s were notorious for instilling discipline through humiliation (as they still are), but the 1956 Ribbon Creek incident – in which six USMC recruits drowned – resulted in a public outrage, and a Congressional investigation seemed possible. Subsequent reforms within the USMC included greater oversight and training for future DIs.
USMC cooperation on this film became uncertain following Ribbon Creek. Always nervous about its public image, the USMC approved their participation in production on The D.I. because, in their view, the screenplay demonstrated the honor of the Corps, the molding of an undisciplined man into the ideal Marine. Another reason behind the Corps’ approval: 20th Century Fox was rumored to be considering a project based on the Ribbon Creek incident. The production and release of The D.I. effectively ended Fox’s plans (personally, why could we not have both?). For Webb’s film and depending on one’s feelings towards military culture, The D.I. can be perceived not only as a celebration of American militarism, but also a document of how dehumanizing, potentially abusive this military service can be. However one interprets the film, what is undeniable is that this, according to current and veteran Marines, is among the most realistic depictions of Marine boot camp in a Hollywood movie. And despite an ill-advised romantic subplot and a scene near the end, The D.I. is effectively shot.
Technical Sergeant (a defunct rank replaced by Gunnery Sergeant) Jim Moore (Webb) oversees of a batch of USMC recruits at Parris Island. One of these recruits is Private Owens (Don Dubbins) – who, on paper, has the intelligence and mental fortitude to become a Marine. But recently, Owens has been capitulating in his tasks, his behavior bordering on insubordination and apathy. Moore believes Owens can be a Marine, and asks his commanding officer, Captain T.L. Anderson (Lin McCarthy) for more time before Anderson draws up the discharge papers. Capt. Anderson allows Owens three more days to get his act together, or else he will sign off on a discharge. In his downtime, Moore flirts with clothing store clerk Annie (Jackie Loughery) and the two enter in a sort of relationship. Late in the film, Owens’ mother (Virginia Gregg) helps explain the behavior of her son – saying things that might make sense to military families, but otherwise came off as peculiar to this reviewer, who has few connections to the military. The film is not without humor; a collection of scenes regarding a sand flea would not be out of place in a satirical military movie.
When considering the production history of The D.I. and the possibility it was meant to be a positive portrayal in a time of controversy for the USMC, the final minutes of the film become suspect. James Lee Barrett’s screenplay – and this might be a cultural disconnect I have from members of the military – posits that the only way to for Private Owens to be an honorable man is to stick to basic training, submitting himself to the Corps as the only way he can learn to be disciplined, responsible person. There are conversations between Moore and Anderson regarding whether Owens is an appropriate fit for the Marines.
Their minds are made up, however, when Owens’ mother comes to Parris Island and tells both men about the family’s military history – Owens had his two brothers killed during the Korean War, his father during the Marshall Islands Campaign in World War II. I expect you to whip him into shape, Owens’ mother says, to be as honorable in life as his brothers and father were. There is that word again, “honor”. Beyond what becomes a blatantly flag-waving lecture that would almost never happen on a military base, is there a case of familial, financial, or psychological hardship going on in the Owens family or what is left of it? If so, why aren’t Moore and Anderson asking Owens’ mother about this? Whether or not one believes in Owens’ eventual change of character/heart within this military setting – because I do not – the reasons Owens’ mother reveals to her son’s superiors are not nearly developed enough as they should be. For yours truly, this is where The D.I. becomes something beyond a boot camp drama, something that has become fetishized in the United States in recent years: a celebration, if not glorification, and statement of infallibility of American militarism and military culture.
Webb, editor Robert M. Leeds (primarily worked in television, including The Beverly Hillbillies and The Six Million Dollar Man), and cinematographer Edward Colman (a live-action Disney mainstay, including 1964′s Mary Poppins, 1968′s Blackbeard’s Ghost) do a magnificent job in framing and shooting The D.I. Perhaps their collaborative highlight appears in the opening scene. With snappier editing than your typical 1950s Hollywood movie and filming these soldier introductions from over Moore’s shoulder and behind his back, we adopt the Technical Sergeant’s perspective and we learn much about him even on the first interaction. Notice the camera when Private Casto (John T. Ahern – one of many real-life Marine recruits used in this film) when Moore comments on his general appearance and his weight. The low-angled camera and editing darts to each of the aspects Moore picks on, establishing the precision that he expects from his recruits. Webb, Leeds, and Colman wait for the perfect moment to show Webb’s face for the first time – showing us the tension among Owens and the sergeant, suggesting a thorny history even if one had muted their conversation. Throughout The D.I., Webb and his collaborators make Marine basic training as cinematic as it had even (or perhaps ever since) been portrayed.
Individual moments disorient and startle, reeling the viewer in. The scenes in the barracks where Moore is walking among his recruits features a flowing camera rarely seen in a 1950s Hollywood movie – especially when he is walking backwards. Training montages mix up the flavor of The D.I., keeping the viewer alert, catching them off-guard in one’s expectations of an all-too-conventional military drama.
The central performance from Jack Webb – already established on radio and television – is magnificent. With his character so consumed with his job to shape Marine recruits, Webb plays his character stiffly, with his physical tension apparent even in moments of recreation. Though similar in spirit to his most acclaimed role as Joe Friday, his turn as Technical Sergeant Moore disputes the idea that Webb could do nothing else outside of Dragnet (”This is the city: Los Angeles, California. I work here. I’m a cop”). He is ferocious here. His presence when barking at the recruits feels just right: measured enough not to descend into Full Metal Jacket-esque physical abuse, but verbally caustic enough for his insults to land like a recently-used fireplace poker to the face. He, of course, has all the film’s best dialogue. Advised by Lieutenant Colonel Wyatt Carneal on how to act as a DI and by maintaining the film’s authenticity, Webb does almost everything correctly except calling cadence, according to those who have been through Marine basic training. As Owens, Dubbins does a satisfactory job in embodying his character’s reluctance and conflicted mentality. Webb and Dubbins are two of only a handful of professional actors in The D.I. as almost all of the minor roles were given to actual Marine recruits at the time – Lt. Col. Carneal believed professional actors would refuse to submit to haircuts, and would look too mature on-camera compared to USMC recruits. If one is interested in behind-the-scenes stories of The D.I. that I cannot independently verify, look at the film’s reviews on IMDb, as some of the reviewers there claim to have been a part of this production.
An uninventive score by journeyman composer David Buttolph (1948′s Rope, 1953′s The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms) sprinkles in the “Marines’ Hymn” and other hymns and marches liberally. The music will set the patriotic atmosphere, if nothing more. The decision to humanize Moore with the addition of a romantic subplot is a near disaster. Jack Webb is obviously not used to playing a romantic lead, disrupting the film’s structure and flow for something that it could have done without. There are enough scenes outside the recruits’ regimentation where – in quieter conversation with equals and superiors – Moore’s persona outside being a DI might be explored.
The military buildings seen in The D.I. all were used for actual Marine recruit training. But the USMC objected to using Parris Island (where Marine recruits residing east of the Mississippi River report to), as that was the site of the Ribbon Creek incident. Instead the USMC approved Warner Bros. to use Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton in northern San Diego County, California and a Corps Reserve Center in Pasadena (Los Angeles County) to stand in for Parris Island in South Carolina.
The United States Marine Corps approved the final print of the film, and The D.I. was shown on Parris Island before and some time after its general release. It is without question The D.I. is a pro-Marine film without reservations. This is not a film interested in questioning this mindset, the motivations, and the approach that the Corps continues to exercise. For those skeptical of those aspects of American militarism, do not feel the need to lay down your skepticism when watching The D.I. Being skeptical and enjoying a film like this are not mutually exclusive. For what it is, The D.I. present a unique entry into the long tradition of American military films – in this instance not through combat, but through heralding the creation of young men into the most ruthless human killing machines in the history of the world.
^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.
